


Bound For Glory

by grimmauxillatrix



Category: Warhammer 40k (Novels) - Various Authors
Genre: Creampie, Excessive use of formal titles, Large Cock, M/M, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Partners, Power Play, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Space Marines, loads of cum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 06:38:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13653510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimmauxillatrix/pseuds/grimmauxillatrix
Summary: You are improving, Commissar,” The Space Marine says jovially, rather in the same tone one would use to encourage a cadet. “But you need to avoid distractions.”“How would you recommend I do that, wisest of Techmarines?”Drumon gives him a sly smile, and tugs him closer, until Cain is bumping up against him.“I would recommend the method we use amongst all our battle brothers.”





	Bound For Glory

Despite the inherent dangers within, being the Commissariat liaison to an Astartes chapter had its perks. Cain could easily hide behind the massed armor of the Reclaimers as xenos shot at them. He had access to some of the best artificers in the galaxy, which helped when Necrons took off two of his fingers. He could train with the best of the best, though their sheer strength and reach often had him lying on the mats as a Space Marine grinned down at him. 

And boy wasn't the view from down there something. Cain had long ago accepted that his “admiration” of the male form was rather sexual in nature, and that he wanted rather different things from a man than he did from a woman. And here, among the Emperor's finest, it was hard not to daydream.

His sparring partner, Drumon, poked him gently in the ribs with the blunt side of his unpowered chainsword as Cain lay panting on the mat. “You are improving, Commissar,” he says jovially, rather in the same tone one would use to encourage a cadet. “But you need to avoid distractions.”

Cain glowers up at him, though he accepts the offered hand and allows the Marine to lift him up like a rag doll. “How would you recommend I do that, wisest of Techmarines?”

Drumon gives him a sly smile, and tugs him closer, until Cain is bumping up against him. This close it's undoubtable that the Marine won't not pick up on the fact that he's ever so slightly aroused. Being thrown about by a large, friendly man unfortunately has that effect on him. While normally he can duck away to take a cold shower after sparring, this time he's trapped. Drumon’s thumb plays over his wrist, and Cain knows he can feel his pulse.

“I would recommend the method we use amongst all our battle brothers.”

“And what, exactly, might that be-” his sentence is cut off as the Marine dips his head down and kisses Cain, gently nibbling on his bottom lip with exaggerated care. The Commissar’s groin throbs, and he makes a surprised noise when Drumon lets his sword fall to the ground and scoops him up, bringing him into reach.

Cain loops his arms around the Techmarines thick neck to help support himself, fingers playing over the edges of his cortical implants. He doesn't mind his legs dangling off the ground, not when he can continue to kiss back, opening his mouth for Drumon and moaning softly when he takes advantage, biting properly at Cains lips.

“Do you do this for all your battle brothers?” He asks when he pulls away, flushed and cheeky.

“No, just the ones I like.” Drumon responds with a growl, and dips Cain to the ground, kneeling as he does so. As soon as Cain’s back touches the mat the larger man is on him, stripping him of his training top and dragging both Cain's leggings and briefs off in one swift motion. He grins, satisfied, as Cain's half-hard cock is revealed, prompting Cain to flush a deep crimson.

“Have you taken a man before?” He asks, pressing his hand down on Cains cock with just enough pressure to allow him to rut back up against him, smearing precum all over his palm.

“Of course,” Cain retorts, normal snappy response cut off when Drumon moves his hand and runs his thumb over the head of his cock. He can see that the Marine is equally hard and his hips jerk at the thought of getting  _ that _ in him.

“Hurry up and give it to me.” He insists, trying to sit up.

Drumon laughs at his efforts and pulls away, leaving Cain to whine at the lack of pressure on his cock. He strides over to a locker and hunts about inside it, which hints that training room sex isn't as uncommon as Cain had initially thought. He soon returns with a bottle of lube that, while proportioned normally for him, is comically large to Cain's eyes.

“Prepare yourself.” He commands, sitting and finally beginning to strip. “Let me see how you do it.”

Cain is more than happy to obey. Temporarily ignoring his leaking cock, he spreads his legs and arches his back, putting a large dollop of lube on his fingers before working them slowly in. He wants to make the show good for his friend, and allows himself to moan freely as he works first two, then three fingers into himself. By the time he has four in Drumon is fully erect and his eyes are wide. Cain would happily fist himself to keep that look on the Techmarine’s face, but the man has better ideas.

“Enough,” he says, licking his lips and shuffling forward on his knees. Cain removes his fingers and Drumon grabs his hips and flips him over. “Hands and knees,” he rasps, and Cain hastens to obey. He has a moment to look over his shoulder and give his sparring partner a cheeky wink and then large, warm hands are on his hips again and Drumon is thrusting in- in- in until Cain thinks he's going to be split open. He's so full he can barely breathe, trying to get air in. Then Drumon bottoms out and he gasps, all his precious air forced out again.

“You alright?” Drumon asks, large hand stroking down the arch of Cain’s spine.

“If you don't move I'm going to shoot you,” Cain moans, and the Marine laughs. His first thrust knocks Cain onto his elbows. His second drags a long, wanton moan out of Cain, unable to articulate his “finally, finally” into words. Drumons left hand drags up and down Cain's chest as his right holds Cain in place, his soft grunts growing slowly louder and doing more to arouse Cain than his petting ever could.

Abruptly, he freezes, and Cain yelps a “hey!” before craning his neck up to see what the problem is.

 

Three more Reclaimers had entered the sparring room, and were gaping at the scene before them. Cain yelps again, and tries to scramble away, but Drumon’s solid hands pinned him into immobility. 

“So, the Commissar thinks he can handle an Astartes.” The first Marine, a blonde, slightly narrower-faced specimen with a half-healed set of claw marks running across the bridge of his nose and down his left cheek spoke. Leaving his sword in the rack, he stalks over to eye Drumon before kneeling in front of Cain and placing a thick index finger under his chin, forcing him to look up and meet his narrow brown eyes.

“But can he take three?”

Cain blushes horribly and Drumon protests. “Not at once, Captain, it would kill him.”

The captain chuckles, which is not at all reassuring. “Who said at once, Brother-Sargeant? We can take turns. An Astartes knows how to share.” He places his thumb gently on Cain's lower lip in a silent question.

Well, it's a more preferable way to die than some. Still flushed a bright red, Cain lets his tongue dart out and flick over the Captains thumb. He doesn't miss the man's sharp intake of breath.

“Cassel, lock the door.” The captain commands, not taking his eyes off of Cain as he leans back to divest himself of his trousers. As he does so, he gives Drumon a nod.

When the Marine begins to move again Cain screams, in surprise and in ecstasy when he changes his angle to hit his prostate. He can barely keep his eyes open to watch the captain begin to work on himself, forced back onto his elbows by the strength of Drumon's thrusts. His cock is so achingly hard, he can barely handle the feeling, and he tries to sneak a hand back to touch himself.

“Oh no Commissar, not yet.” A large hand lifts and supports his head, and Cain opens his eyes to see the Captain grinning down at him, his own cock at the ready. “You must prove yourself worthy first.”

The cliched line makes Cain snort, and he nearly chokes as the captain chooses that moment to rest the head of his dick against his lips. Cain licks at the head, drawing a gratifying moan out of the much larger man. He doesn't have much of an opportunity to enjoy the taste as Drumon's thrusts force him upon the Captains cock, forcing him to stretch his jaw to the limit as the captain also pushes into his mouth. Without the support of his hand, fingers stroking along Cains jaw and cheek, he'd surely choke. He tries to work his tongue along the Marine's length, as much of it as he can reach, but as soon as he thinks he's found a rhythm the Captain and Drumon sync up.

 

There's spit running down his chin and lube running down his thighs, and Cain's never been so happy to be used before. His moans are muffled on the Captains cock as he tries to get as much of it into his mouth as possible, tongue playing out along the veins and occasionally along the head when the Captain pulls back. His efforts are making the Captain grunt, and his head is abruptly wrenched up, forcing him to meet the man's eyes as he laves his tongue along the man's slit. 

“Don't you dare come before I do.” He growls, and Cain whimpers, the demand making him even wetter. Astartes stamina was legendary, he didn't think he could last that long.

Fortunately, his plea for mercy was correctly interpreted, and the Captain gives him a pat on the head. “Soon, Commissar.” He rumbles, and forces his cock even deeper into Cain's mouth.

He's barely getting enough oxygen through his nose, his head still being cradled in a large hand, and he's so, so hard. Suddenly the grip on his face tightens, and the Captain pulls out, coming across his face as Cain gasps for air. Cum spatters across his tongue and along his cheeks and he swallows desperately, trembling as the Captain works the last few drops out, playing his fist loosely over his cock.

As if on a pre-agreed signal Drumon comes with a low, hollow moan. He forces himself as far into Cain's ass as he can, and the smaller man can feel him gush in spurts, filling him until Cain thinks he's going to burst. The touch of Drumons hand on his cock makes him collapse, face pressed into the mat and ass in the air as he screams, coming with barely two strokes of the Astartes’ hand.

He can't stop shaking, renting a soft high whine when Drumon pulls out with an obscene squelch. Cum drips down his trembling thighs, and then two hands settle on his cheeks and pull them apart, with a thumb pressed against his thoroughly loosened hole.

The Captains voice floats from somewhere behind him, giving an owner to those hands. “You took it so well, Commissar, as though you've lain with half the chapter already.” Cain raises his sticky head to retort, but he's pushed back down. Not roughly, but firmly.

 

“Can you take two more?” 

His heart jumps at the question. His ass is already so sore. But. When has the great Ciaphas Cain ever turned down an opportunity to be thoroughly fucked?

“Bring it on.” He says hoarsely, then coughs. The thumb on his hole digs in briefly, sending him shooting upwards and back with a shriek, and he's caught by two warm hands and a firm chest. He looks up, and sees Drumon staring down at him with both worry and awe.

“I look forward to hearing the noises you make when you're not sucking cock.” The captain grins horribly at him as a second Marine- Callas, if Cain's memory hadn't been fucked out of him- settles between his legs. He's already erect and naked, tawny skin slightly sweaty. Drumon helps Cain settle properly, still holding his head and sliding his hand down the Commissars shuddering sides. Callas waits until Cain gives him a nod, and slides in.

 

He has a different style than Drumon, opting to drag moans slowly out of Cain by pushing in, pulling out until just the tip of his cock rested against Cain's hole, and then pushing in a little further. He seemed intent on driving Cain slowly insane, the Commissars increasing whines and moans countering his almost stoic silence.

“Please,” Cain finally begs, Drumon holding him down with one hand. “Just fuck me, come on, just fucking put it in me-”

His litany is answered when Callas seems to have enough and finally pushes in all the way, forcing a gush of cum out. Cains responding scream is silenced when Drumon bends down to kiss him, forcing his tongue deep into Cain's mouth and squeezing his chin so he can't pull away. Never a passive participant, Cain reaches up to grab whatever hair the techmarine has, moaning into his mouth as Drumon tastes his captain on Cain's tongue.

Callas’ torturous slow, thorough thrusts mean that Cain can feel every single inch of his massive cock slide through him. He's gotten hard again, head of his cock glistening with precum as it bobs up and down in time to the thrusts into his ass. Drumon is playing his hands along Cain's torso, listening for different reactions as though he's adjusting his bolter. When he finds a spot that makes Cain squeal he grins and digs his fingers into that point, forcing Callas to hold tighter onto Cain's hips as the Commissar writhes between them. He's so overstimulated he can barely take any more, and then Callas adjusts the hold he has and nails Cain's prostate as though target shooting.

Cain comes untouched from that alone with another scream, shuddering and tightening around the cock in him as he adds to the mess already on his chest. His reaction pulls the first sound he's heard from Callas as the silent Marine groans, his eyes fluttering shut as he spills his load into Cain, adding to the amount already in him. He holds still and pressed into Cain for almost a minute, bent over so close their noses almost brush. Cain lifts his head and gives the Marine a cheeky peck on the lips.

He's surprised when Callas grabs him and drags him out of Drumon's lap into a kiss, not nearly as cautious as his brother. Cain is rapidly overwhelmed as Callas fists his hand in Cain's hair and licks at his lips, prompting Cain to open his mouth. But he's as thorough a kisser as he is at fucking, taking his time to suck Cain's bottom lip in between his teeth and then slowly pushing his tongue in, playing it gently over and along Cain's until he has the Commissar moaning into his mouth softly. When they pull apart Callas is as flushed as Cain is, giving him one last kiss before he pulls out and moves away to let his last brother in for a turn.

The last Marine shakes his head, and gestures at Drumon. “We interrupted you. Please.”

 

Cain looks at him, then back at Drumon in mild astonishment. Apparently “three Marines” did not necessarily mean three  _ different _ ones. Drumon grabs him as soon as the Captain also gives him a nod of approval, dragging him upwards by his arms. Cain whines helplessly as he’s dragged into Drumon’s arms, unable to keep Callas’s cum from leaking out of him and dripping all over the mat, then his partner’s legs. He’s arranged gently like a limp doll in the larger man’s lap, Drumon’s half-hard cock slipping up through the cleft of his ass and rests against his back. Drumon resumes gently stroking down his sides, making soothing noises as he lets Cain’s head loll back against his chest, bending his head down to nuzzle along his cheek and pressing a fond kiss into his hair. 

“Are you ready?” He murmurs, giving the curve of Cain’s ear a lick. Cain shivers and whines in response, gently rutting back against the hardness resting against him, hips rolling slowly back against the Marine. He can feel Drumon grin before giving the back of his neck a bite that makes Cain yowl and arch back against him.

“I can’t wait to feel you around me again,” the Techmarine murmurs, lifting one of Cain’s legs over his thighs and beginning to work his finger into the Commissar. The sensation makes Cain moan as he feels himself drip out, cock trying to react to his ass being played with. His hips jerk involuntarily as his cock twitches, and Drumon pulls his finger out to hear Cain whine again.

“You’re so loose now… did you enjoy taking my brothers?” He adjusts his posture under Cain and wraps his arms around Cain’s chest, lifting him up with ease and supporting him as Cain adjusts himself, eyes fluttering shut as the tip of the Marine’s cock slides into him. With one large hand bracing against Cain’s chest, Drumon thrusts up and brings him down into his lap, sheathing himself deeply into the Commissar, chuckling when Cain screams from the overstimulation. He immediately sets up a brutal pace, sliding Cain up and down as though he’s nothing more than a cock sleeve to be used.

“I bet you’d enjoy taking the entire chapter,” Drumon murmurs, moving his lips to torment the sensitive spot under Cain’s ear to make him moan weakly. “Just one after another, until you can’t move from the amount of spend in you, weighing you down….”  The mental image draws another tortured groan out of Cain, the continued torment of his lips and teeth on the skin under his ear and along his neck making him shudder and shake. Just when he thinks he’s been overstimulated enough, Drumon uses the hand not supporting his chest to drag his hips back and nails his prostate, then drags his hand over to grope his cock. Cain screams through an echo of his orgasm, clenching around the Techmarine as his spent cock twitches helplessly. His spasms push Drumon over the edge as well, and he comes deep into the Commissar’s body.

 

For a long moment they sit pressed together, the solid mass of Drumon’s cock throbbing gently within him. Cain swears, in that moment, that he can feel the tip up between his ribs. The Techmarine’s chest heaves behind him, rocking him gently back and forth. Then Drumon tips forward and helps Cain slide gently off, supporting him as he collapses onto the mat. There’s no strength left in his body, and all he can do is squeak when Drumon smacks his ass, feeling cum ooze out. The pathetic noise draws a short laugh from the Captain, who strides over to examine Cain, squatting down to loom over him with a toothy grin.

“You did it. I have to admit, I’m impressed.” He strokes Cain’s cheek fondly, as though admiring a prime broodmare. “Perhaps we should do it again some time.”

 

The Commissar can’t do much more than whine at him pathetically as he stands to leave. “You, Sargeant. Clean him up for his efforts.” Drumon nods as the three leave, and gently hoists the limp Cain over his shoulder, cradling him to avoid shaking more life out of him. He deposits Cain in the shower and helps him stand, both of them flushing when Cain whimpers at feeling cum oozing out and down his thighs. He’s so full, he doesn’t think it’ll ever all come out. The hot water from the shower washes over him and makes him sag with relief, clinging to Drumon’s large, firm frame. Drumon pats his back and slides his hand down to grope Cain’s ass, gently playing with him and hopefully massaging out some of the soreness that Cain will doubtlessly be feeling later.

“Hopefully you’ll be able to focus more on sparring now, Commissar.” He jokes softly, giving Cain’s rear a firm squeeze.

“Are you kidding me?” Cain finds the strength to wheeze a laugh. “Now I’m hoping this is what’s going to happen every time.”

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate titles include: Running A Train On Commissar Cain, Cadia Broke Before His Ass Did
> 
> It is INCREDIBLY hard to distinguish five people in action who all have the same pronouns, even when four of them have names/titles. 
> 
> Join me at ask-ciaphas-cain.tumblr.com


End file.
